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“Oh, um, no, I understand. Tell Evie I love her and to please be careful.”
“I will. I appreciate your understanding Mr. Young.” I hung up.
“What did he say?” the lass asked. “He won’t be okay with not knowing my location.”
“He sends his love,” I said, smiling. “And I told you everyone has a price. Apparently, his is auto racing.”
“I still won’t agree to be your fiancée,” Evie said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Alan pushed the iPad back toward me again. I quickly scanned it.
“Your brother owns a restaurant. It seems it’s not doing well.”
“It’s fine.”
“He laid off most of his staff last year.”
“That’s private information,” she said smartly.
“Nothing is private if you have enough money and power. As for your brother’s restaurant. I can get him a review in the Los Angeles Times. I know the food editor.” I finished my whiskey, setting down the glass.
“Those are impossible to come by.”
“Not if you’re me,” I said, planting my next hook. “Of course, you and I would have to come to an agreement.”
She looked down at her hands, weighing her options no doubt, the line between her brows growing. “Fine.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” I said smugly. “Alan, write up a contract. It appears Evie, and I have a deal.”
“I already told you I’m not signing some fucking contract.”
My mouth curved into a smile. “Fucking. Interesting choice of adjective. Perhaps not the contract, but I assure you there will be fucking this weekend.”
ChapterThree
EVIE
My face flamed with heat at his callous suggestion. What had I just agreed to? It was true. My brother’s business was failing, and it didn’t involve just him but my other two brothers, Colin and Sean. They inherited the restaurant after my father died. My father had just about run it into the ground, taking out massive loans against it. Slowly my brothers had been trying to rebuild it into the success it had been when my mother was alive. I owed them this chance. The review could turn everything around, plus it would benefit me too. If they hired more people, I could stop working as a hostess and focus on my own career. Possibly even return to university.
“You should go and lie down in the bedroom. It will be a long day tomorrow when we arrive,” Keir said. “There’s a bag in there with clothes in it.”
“I’m not wearing your girlfriend’s clothes,” I said, disgusted.
“They’ve never been worn. They were picked out for this trip by a stylist. You’ll be thankful for them.”
“In case you forgot, I’m still working.”
“Not anymore. The other attendant will manage just fine.”
I turned and headed to the back of the plane, where the bedroom was located. Simon stopped me in the rear galley. “A hundred thousand dollars. Not bad,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure that is off the table.”
“Christ, if he swung the other way, I would have fucked him for less.”
“He’s a complete douche, and you’re an idiot.” I opened the bedroom door, slamming it behind me.
The bag was sitting on the end of the bed. I picked it up and threw it on the ground. The small act of rebellion soothed my rattled nerves. There was a small porthole on the wall beside the bed. I went over and looked out. A blanket of clouds carpeted the space below us, and the pale blue sky was awash in hues of orange and pink. Sunset was coming, and it would be dark soon, which meant only one thing. We were headed east. I shut the cover on the window and picked the bag up off the floor. There was no point putting off the inevitable. I had made a deal. I unzipped it and pulled out a cream-colored silk nightgown. The feel of it was luxurious, and I knew it cost more than I probably made in a month. I took off my uniform and laid it on a chair in the corner, then took my hair down from the bun on top of my head, letting it cascade down my back.
